This bird-watcher made quite a sighting

Eagle-watcher spotted fisherman in trouble and saved his life.

Eagle-watcher spotted fisherman in trouble and saved his life.

June 13, 2006

Bob Huguenard loves watching birds. All kinds -- big ones, bald ones, baby ones, brilliantly colored ones, even belligerent ones. "It's my quiet time," the 48-year-old North Liberty resident says. He does most of his bird- watching in Potato Creek State Park after his work as a salesman for machinists' tools. "I'm in that park about 150 times a year," he says. "I'm a nature lover, which I probably inherited from my mom." Bob can go out to the park and find birds whose names would seem to make it even more fun. He can spot such species as a golden crowned kinglet, a sharp-shinned hawk, a tufted titmouse, a dark-eyed junco, a northern flicker and a black-capped chickadee all in the same day He then posts many of his sightings with the Audubon Society of Indiana and keeps up an online chatter with other bird-watchers. He even became a bit of a celebrity -- a birdie bigwig -- when he spotted a varied thrush two winters ago over at Kingsbury in LaPorte County. "You usually only hear of a varied thrush sighting in Indiana every two or three years," Bob says. Their normal range is from southern California to Alaska. After Bob's sighting, other bird-watchers flocked to Kingsbury and filled their field glasses with the sight of this bird, too. "That was pretty neat," says Bob, who likes his golf, his fishing and his bowling, too. Sometimes, he will meet up with other birders. Sometimes his girlfriend Brigid will go with him. But many times he is out there at Potato Creek State Park by his lonesome. Especially in the winter. "There are occasions when I am probably the only one in the park," Bob says. He thought that was the situation on a cold late February day earlier this year when he spotted a couple of bald eagles. He drove around the lake to where he thought they were would be only to see them in the air. He also thought he heard a few words cut through the air, too, "I figured somebody was calling his dog," he admits. Bob continued to walk along the shore near the boat rental area when he heard the voice again. "I looked down by the pier and saw an ice fishing bucket," he says. But he didn't see an ice fisherman and very little ice on the lake, either. He went running down the pier and saw a hand from the water waving at him. And there off the end of the pier was a big guy in the freezing water and not able to pull himself out. "The first thing he said was, 'Yeah, I'm a dumb a--,'" Bob recalls. The man, who did not want to be identified in this story, didn't appear in any immediate danger of drowning since he did have a grip on the pier, but freezing to death was a different story. "I said to him, 'What's your name, dude?' " Bob recalls The dude told him. "Well, I'm Bob and we're going to get you out." Not so fast on those promises. Bob locked wrists with the guy and tried to pull him out. But the guy, who probably weighed 300 pounds with wet gear on and little energy left, wasn't coming easily -- in fact, not at all. "So I flipped open my cell phone only to find one bar showing," Bob continues. "Potato Creek is pretty much a dead zone for cell phones, but somehow I was able to get a 911 operator." In the meantime, the guy's teeth were chattering. and Bob put his hand over the guy's hand to try to keep him a little bit warmer. After about 10 or 15 minutes, all kinds of rescue workers were there. "It took four guys to pull him out," Bob says. With all the fuss going on, Bob ambled off and drove home. "Yeah, if I hadn't been there, it's a good chance the guy would have either frozen to death or gotten too tired to hang on," Bob says. He'll credit the bald eagles that day. The other guy gave all the credit to Bob, although it took several weeks before he managed to track him down. "He wanted to give me a reward," Bob says. "I told him that anybody would have done what I did and to give the money to the Audubon Society." Which he did. "I smile everytime I'm out bird-watching and I look down at the pier," Bob says. A birder giving a hand is worth ... ... in this case, more than money can buy. Bill Moor's column appears on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Contact him at bmoor@sbtinfo.com, or write him at the South Bend Tribune, 225 W. Colfax Ave., South Bend, IN 46626; (574) 235-6072.Bill Moor Commentary